Just Once
by griseldalafey
Summary: He thinks it's a one-night stand and all they'll ever have. Just one night to make memories.


Pairing: Rumbelle  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: It could not be less mine. Once Upon a Time belongs to Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis, ABC and Disney  
Summary: He thinks it's a one-night stand and all they'll ever have. Just one night to make memories.  
Setting: AU/No curse

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Afterwards he wasn't sure how it had happened. How he'd gone from admiring Storybrooke's pretty librarian from a distance to having her in_ his_ arms, in _her_ bed, after what he considered to be the most earth-shattering, perfect sex of his life.  
He'd been surprised to bump into her at The Rabbit's Hole. Somehow their initial smalltalk had spiraled into a deeper, far more interesting conversation until they found themselves seated across from each other at one of the small tables. Somehow, between the two of them, they'd managed to kill a bottle of wine, while they talked and laughed. He was surprised to discover that he could elicit that warm, throaty laughter from her almost effortlessly and he basked in it, quickly becoming addicted to her smile and putting in every effort to make her laugh as much as he could. They talked for what seemed like hours and somewhere along the line it started to feel surreal. Like something out of his fantasies. Her dazzling smiles, her head that leaned in towards him as they talked, her beautiful bright eyes that looked softly at him, the teeth that constantly worried her lower lip to the point where he just wanted to reach out and soothe the small crease with his own lips and tongue… It couldn't be real, it couldn't be aimed at him, the town's most-feared monster.

He had walked her home afterwards, determined to make sure she got there safely.  
Perhaps it had been the wine that had gone to his head. Or the way her bright, blue eyes had beamed at him all evening. Or because he just couldn't bear to be alone any longer.

Whatever the reason was, it had led him to do something monumentally stupid: once in front of the library, he had cupped her cheek in his hand, lowered his head to that beautiful face that had captivated him all evening and kissed her.  
'_Just this once_,' he'd told himself. A single memory of the feel of her lips to keep him warm during his long, lonely, sleep-deprived nights.

When he had pulled away, he had fully expected the slap that was bound to be coming, the yelling or the indignant rejection and he was already regretting the action that had ruined this near perfect night.  
Instead she had simply turned the key and unlocked the door. Just when he was about to step away, to disappear into the dark of the night she had taken his hand and pulled him inside.

She'd kissed him in that dark library, her arms wrapped around his neck, her hands threading through his hair. Then she had taken his hand again and led him to the back of the library, to the stairs up to her apartment. She'd kissed him again halfway up the stairs, pushing his coat and suit jacket off his shoulders.

It wasn't until he found himself inside her bedroom that he realized this was really happening and right there his control snapped. Pulling her close, all rational thought ceased to be and from that moment on he was only aware of her. Of the feel of her soft skin as he peeled layer after layer of clothing away. Her intoxicating scent that drugged him, her unrestrained responsiveness to his every touch and kiss, as if his hands and mouth were made to give her pleasure.

She was his in that moment, wholly and completely and she was more beautiful, more loving than he ever could have envisioned. She breathed his name like an incantation over and over again and it went straight to his heart. Barely anyone used his given name anymore, but here she was, the loveliest, sweetest creature in the world, whispering his name like a caress. She told him how good he felt, murmured endearments in his ear until her voice grew hoarse and she could only cry out.  
And if he couldn't believe her words, he could believe her body, arching underneath his at his every touch, her arms and legs wrapping around him, keeping him close, her hands stroking every bit of his skin she could reach as if he were someone loved, someone precious.

Much later, after she had drifted off to sleep, he was still holding her, pulling her tightly against his bare chest, unable to let her go, or even relax his hold on her in the slightest. He could feel every curve of her body as it moulded into his own and the soft, silky feel of her skin as he stroked her back and upper arms with feather-light touches, terrified of waking her.

He was bone tired, a mixed result of the wine, too many sleepless nights and the after-effects of making love to her. He wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms and follow her to a land of dreams, but he didn't dare to, afraid that when he woke up, she´d be gone. If this was the only time he was allowed to hold her, to cherish her, to love her, he was going to savor every moment, every second of it.

Because this was all he was ever going to have. There was no future for them. He was the single most disliked man in town, shunned and loathed by everyone, mistrusted to the core, only to be sought out when they needed money or a deal and hated even more because of it.  
Because she was almost two decades younger than him and she deserved so much more than a crippled old man with more baggage than was healthy.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to regret what had happened. He had loved her before this night, but now he was _in_ love with her. He was enthralled by her, by her soft curves, by the smoothness of her white skin, adorned with countless little, golden freckles, her scent and her intoxicating warmth, which reached to his very core, dispelling all the coldness and ice that had armored his heart for so long. Being with her like this, making love to her had by no means sated his desire for her, if only it had increased it.

When she stirred in his arms, the first sign that she was about to wake up, a wave of panic overtook him. Not yet, he wanted, needed a little while longer to imprint the feel of her in his memory. He wasn't ready to let her go just yet. Not ever, but certainly not right now. He knew he tensed when she shifted in his embrace and stretched leisurely against him, her fingers grazing over his chest, kindling the intense, burning longing inside him once again. He looked down at her face, unable not to lose himself in those beautiful blue eyes that would fill with regret any second now. He just watched as her eyes fluttered open and she frowned a little, trying to recognize her bearings. He could see the memories of the past hours come back to her and held his breath, despite everything mesmerized by the subtle ray of emotions that washed over her face, simply relishing at the sight of Belle waking up in his arms.

But then she smiled, a slow, sleepy smile spreading across her face, warming her eyes and lightening her face. The hand that had been stroking his chest up until then came up and she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling his head down in the progress. When she first planted a soft kiss on his lips it didn't fully register, too petrified as he was by the sudden course of events. But when her lips continued to move over his, he seemed to recover his senses and he kissed her back hungrily, passionately, pulling her even closer if possible. Shifting their positions he rolled on top of her, one arm wrapped protectively around her waist, holding her close, the other hand softly stroking her shoulder, her side, her hip, simply everywhere he could reach her

And he kissed her, devoured her, the sweet sensation of tasting her now mingled with a familiarity that excited him even further. As he trailed soft kisses down her neck, she arched into him, sighing softly, as he knew she would. As his mouth passed the hollow of her throat he noticed how her heartbeat was deep and even and he couldn't resist nipping lightly at her skin, eliciting a whimper from her. And as he placed a perfect straight row of kisses just below her collarbone he knew with absolute clarity that he would never be able to walk away from her after his.

"I love you."

The words came naturally, as if they had been waiting all along for their time to be uttered. He didn't even really realize what he had said, until he heard her sharp intake of breath. Then he froze, unable to move, his body becoming rigid and his nose only inches away from her shoulder. A deep sense of resignation washing over him. It would end here and this wonderful, breath-taking special night was more than he could have hoped for in the first place.

´Rum…´ her voice was soft and a little hesitant, but her hands, that had been tracing patterns on his back until then, moved to the sides of his head, forcing him most determinedly to look up. He met her gaze and settled his arm next to her head, leaning on his elbow as not to crush her with his weight. Running his fingers through the strand of hair on her forehead, he bought himself a few more precious seconds in which he could just touch her. But the question in her eyes was unmistakable and with some trouble he found his voice, albeit hoarse and oddly strained.

"I love you, Belle and I can't bring myself to regret this…" These few little words seemed so inadequate to articulate the depths of his feelings for her and yet it was already far more than he ought to say in the first place. He braced himself for her rejection, for the moment she´d push him away and everything would fall apart.

But instead her eyes widened in shock before they spilled over with tears and he found that her tears and pain were infinitely harder to bear than her anger. Evidently he had hurt her, hurt her to the point of crying.

Clumsily he wiped at her tears, his heart breaking. "Please don't cry, sweetheart…" Apparently once he had told her how he felt about her, there was no stopping the endearments from tumbling from his mouth.

And then her smile was back, warmer and brighter than ever before and so were her arms, wrapping themselves around his neck, her hands once again back in his hair, tugging his face until his eyes met hers.

"I love you too… I have for ages… I just never thought you were interested in me until last night and then we had such a lovely evening and when you kissed me…"

And for once he didn't overthink. For once he didn't back away. For once he took the plunge and stopped her ramblings with his mouth, enfolding her in his arms again.

For once, he wasn't going to let go.

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**I'd love to hear what you think! **


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